


elastic heart

by Manzanas



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Introspection, M/M, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:52:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3330101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manzanas/pseuds/Manzanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor is trying to make things work. Oliver just isn't sure he wants them to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	elastic heart

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after 1x09, but in pretty gray territory after that

It started with a mouth on his neck, hands on his hips, fire in his veins. Or maybe it started in a bar, with a sharp laugh and a killer grin. With an insecure IT worker and an overconfident law student. Oliver can’t be fucked to care. Doesn’t want to pinpoint the exact moment when he screwed his own life over. 

And now. Well,  _now._  

It’s hot, and sweaty, angry and hurt. And if Oliver’s being honest with himself, probably a bad idea. Just like the couple of drinks that led them here.  

 _Here_  with Connor, lying on his back, flushed with shame and arousal, eyes open and looking anywhere but Oliver.  

“You used me,” Oliver says, and his tries to sound angry, tries to sound vindictive, but it's defeated more than anything when the words finally push themselves out.  

“I know,” Connor replies, still not looking at him, voice broken and it’s exactly what Oliver wants. Except for the part where it’s not at all.  

He’s not sure what he wants. At least, not beyond the next thrust, the next hitch in Connor’s breathe, the next flicker of his eyes like all Connor wants is to look at Oliver, but he’s afraid of what he’ll find. Oliver isn't sure that's wrong. 

“You used me, and then you slept with that guy, and then you just left,” Oliver punctuates his words with a bite to the other man’s neck, reveling in the way it makes Connor arch off the bed, makes his breath hitch and his eyes flutter. 

Maybe he can’t make Connor stay, maybe he doesn’t even want him to. But here, but  _here._ At least he has control. 

“I thought-“ Connor gasps, words breaking off as Oliver speeds up, hips moving faster, hoping that Connor will just give up talking. Give up making excuses. Still, the other man opens his mouth, ( _finally_ ) looks Oliver in the eyes, and tries again. “I thought you didn’t want me to.”  

“I didn’t,” Oliver says, and adds without thought, “I don’t.” 

He doesn’t miss the way Connor flinches, the brief wounded look that flashes across his face, the way his eyes move to the other side of the room yet again. But he doesn’t comfort him either, or take the words back. They’re true. Or at least, they might be. They  _should_ be, Oliver thinks, and quickens his movements again, losing himself in the sensation, losing himself in _Connor_.  

Anything to stop his conflicted thoughts.

Oliver feels his release coming, notices the way Connor’s even breathes begin to break off, small moans puncturing the air. Oliver watches as Connor's hands stutter up, seeking to grasp something, anything,  _Oliver_ , before finally going back to clutch at the sheets, tension in every line of his body. Oliver isn't sure if he's disappointed or relieved.  

“Oliver,” Connor gasps out, and Oliver surges forward, covering Connor’s mouth with his own, cutting off the other man’s words. Whatever it is, Oliver doesn’t want to hear it.  

Oliver moves his hands to Connor’s hair, tugging maybe just on the side of too hard, mouth still pressed against the other's, not a kiss so much as an act of force.  

Oliver feels the moment Connor lets go, feels the way his whole body tenses up and then relaxes, coming untouched on their stomachs between them. A few more thrusts, and Oliver follows him over edge, his lips on Connor's neck and hands tangled in his hair. 

Oliver lies there, catching his breath, face hidden in the crook of Connor's neck. Eventually, he leans up and kisses Connor again. It's softer, slower, and maybe just a little bittersweet, but it's hard to tell where they're going from here. Maybe it's his way of saying goodbye, just in case… Just in case Connor decides he doesn’t actually want to stick around, just in case Oliver _agrees_.  

Oliver pulls back, looking at the other man, and there's a question in Connor's eyes that Oliver isn't prepared to answer, isn't sure how he'd even begin to.  

Looking away, Oliver sighs and rolls off Connor, going to get a towel from the bathroom to clean them both up. They're both silent the entire time, eyes avoiding each other, and Oliver wonders if everything was always this complicated. If it'll always be this complicated. If whatever fragile thing they have between them will last long enough for it to matter.

Finally, Oliver takes a moment to look at Connor,  _really_  look at him (even if Connor’s eyes are still resolutely on the other side of the room). The way his shoulders slump, how he's already curled into himself, looking smaller, _frailer_ than he has any right to.  

Oliver notices the bags under his eyes (no doubt from overworking), and he's maybe a little pale. But still, he looks better than he did before. Before, when he showed up at Oliver's door, panicked and apparently  _high_.   

And Oliver still can't wrap his head around that, someone like Connor, doing drugs. Honestly, with his work schedule, Oliver isn't even sure how he had( _has?_ ) the time. But still, Connor looks, for the most part, healthy.  

And that's what matters. That's all that  _should_ matter, maybe all that would matter, if things weren't so broken between the two of them.

Eventually, he looks away.  

Unsure what to say, if there’s anything he even _wants_ to say, Oliver lies down, and settles on his side, facing away from Connor and wrapping the sheets tight around his shoulders.  Oliver closes his eyes, squeezing them tight, and tries not to think of when this all started going wrong. 

He listens as Connor shifts, unsure, before finally sitting up and pushing himself off the bed, still wordless. He listens as Connor picks up his clothes, pulling up his jeans and shrugging on a t shirt. He listens ( _says nothing_ ) as Connor walks out the room and quietly shuts the door behind him. 

He listens as Connor leaves again, and thinks,  _this isn't what I wanted._  

**Author's Note:**

> lol I probably overused the italics a bit, but oh well (and yeah, the title is totally from that Sia song)  
> find me on [tumblr](http://pavlust.tumblr.com/)  
> thanks for reading, kudos, comments


End file.
